


Quite

by noel_108



Category: Lost
Genre: Gen, Lost - Freeform, Oceanic Six, assassin!sayid, lost abc, off island, post rescue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:14:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25289632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noel_108/pseuds/noel_108
Summary: Sayid comes across one of Widmores associates, and takes just a bit too long to go through with the job.
Relationships: Sayid Jarrah/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 4





	Quite

The two actually kept in touch after hooking up. She thought the guy was interesting, after all. So interesting that she had to look into him. This wasn’t a date, but they had met up at another bar. Restaurants and cafes were too personal. Formal. He was going to leave, she could tell by the way his eyes kept glancing at the windows. Incredibly discretely, he looked at his watch. So discretely that anyone not constantly analyzing movements, anticipating, preparing, wouldn’t have noticed. She wondered when he would try to kill her. She wondered if he knew why he was told to. She wondered if he knew she had a pistol in her boot. Another slow look at the watch, eyes lingering on other things so it wasn’t as noticeable.  
She spoke, “Got a date?”  
Sayid wasn’t quite surprised she noticed his glances, but he hadn’t expected her to. Then again, maybe she’d been at this for years. Maybe she’d been manipulated as he was. Maybe he didn’t have to kill her. Maybe. But maybe was just that, an unsure and unwelcome thought. Unsure was, by name, not sure. Not certain. Not solid. What was certain was that she could be a threat. The way she held herself like she was ready to pounce should’ve warned him to kill her in his temporary apartment. The fact she hadn’t given up where he was staying intrigued him. She was interesting. The most captivating thing he’d come across in over a year.   
He replied after a moment that seemed longer than it was, “Not quite.”  
Quite. What a lovely word. She hadn’t quite realized what a nice word it was until she heard it from him. He was quite a lovely man, though she knew this wasn’t him. His facade was ensnaring, though. She didn’t want it to end. The thought of taking his life wouldn’t have bothered her, had it not been for the fact he would never speak again. It didn’t often bother her to take a life. It was just a life, after all. Yet, the thought of the simple and permanent absence of this man troubled her. He would never again bring realization to the beauty of simple words. He would never ask for yet another shot of MccutCheon. He would never pretend not to follow her hands as they moved near his glass. The glass he now stared at, a bit of whiskey still inside. Her hands moved near his glass, this time picking it up and finishing his drink. It burned as it made its way down her throat. A good burn. Like how the sight of blood morphed from frightening to inviting over the years, she’d begun to take pleasure in simple pains. Simple feelings that proved she was still alive. For now.  
Her silence and her unfocused eyes set him on edge. The woman was no longer chatting away, prying into his past and his head in a way that was almost charming. No hesitation after he’d given her a look he’d given many, a look that warned not to pry farther. It was truly and utterly captivating - the way she spoke. The way she asked questions he’d never been asked. The way he was so easily giving honest answers. This wouldn’t be as easy as the last target.  
Neither wanted to kill the other, though they both needed to kill. They were too alike, it would be like killing the last unshattered piece of them. It would be admitting they were nothing more than their lists. Their names, orders, “clients”, and weapons. They needed to believe they were more than the need to spill blood. While Sayid remembered Nadia and how she looked dying in the street, she thought about her own motivation. Motivation that would remain unknown, but was not powerful enough to keep her from speaking.  
She broke the silence, “Do you know why you’re here?”  
He didn’t miss a beat, “Pardon?”  
She almost smiled, “Why you’re planning to kill me.”  
He sighed quietly enough it wasn’t audible, looking down at the table.  
He gave a lazy last effort, “I’ve got no idea what you’re talking about.”  
She spoke with that same boldness she had previously, “Come on, Jarrah. Do you?”  
He sighed louder this time, “No.”  
“Well. I do.”  
“Please, enlighten me.”  
“Charles Widmore. The name of a man who had a child with what he knew as an outsider. An outsider to the Hostiles. Others, if you will. Benjamin Linus. A man who deemed this a worthy excuse to banish Charles from the island you yourself crashed on. Charles never found the island again. This whole thing, everything we’re doing, is for a feud we have no part in. Two incredibly childish adults fighting over a hunk of rock in the ocean. What’d he tell you? That you were protecting your friends?”  
Sayids silence worked just as well as a nod.  
Her, almost casually, “You’re not. You’re protecting him.”  
Sayid finally spoke, “And I’m supposed to take your word on that?”  
She smiled softly, “My word or my life, Jarrah. You can take whichever’s more efficient.”


End file.
